


Regrets of Yesterday

by Cherienymphe



Series: Mafias, Mobs, and Bikers [5]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Consensual Infidelity, F/M, Mafia AU, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28866147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherienymphe/pseuds/Cherienymphe
Summary: Your arranged marriage to the infamous Steve Rogers isn’t what you initially thought it would be, but things have worked out better than you could have imagined. However, your arrangement with your husband becomes complicated when feelings, and circumstances, that neither of you anticipated come into play.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Pietro Maximoff/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: Mafias, Mobs, and Bikers [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116857
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	1. Regrets of Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: arranged marriage, infidelity? (does it still count if all parties are consenting?), mafia!Steve, side of Bucky x reader, jealous!Steve, eventual NON-CON, Steve’s an ass

Your marriage to the infamous Steve Rogers wasn’t even what you would call a cold one. Truth be told, it wasn’t a marriage at all. Everything was arranged the moment you had caught his parents’ eyes, and before you knew it, you were engaged to a man you had never met. Of course, you knew who Steve Rogers was.

Everyone did.

To the average person, he was your run of the mill business man who’d been blessed with generational wealth. To those who _really_ knew, he was a stern leader to the most well-known crime organization in the city, the same one he’d inherited from his father. He was equally brilliant as he was handsome, and that you could confirm for yourself on your wedding day.

It was a wedding with a decent turnout. Both of your parents were there to witness the event of course. As well as his men, but you hadn’t expected other crime bosses to be in attendance, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you nervous. Your hair looked the best it ever had, your makeup highlighted your best features, and your dress clung to you in a way that caused everyone’s gazes to linger. All in all, it was a beautiful wedding.

If only your husband to be had been present.

Steve was there physically, of course, but the rest of him was so far away that you found yourself feeling alone at the altar. Your hands were intertwined with his as you said your vows, but you couldn’t really feel them. Your eyes met his, but it felt like he wasn’t even looking at you. His lips brushed against yours so lightly, you had to wonder if you imagined the kiss.

Your parents were positively beaming as the priest pronounced you man and wife, but as you contemplated the weight of Steve’s hand in yours, you wondered just how true that was.

The reception was everything you wanted, and when you were told that you had free reign over all of the wedding details, you had been excited. You thought that Steve was going to be one of those husbands who just wanted to make his wife happy no matter what. It was a rude awakening to realize that it was solely because he didn’t care. About the wedding...

About you.

It was during your first dance as a married couple that you fully realized just what this marriage would be.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Steve had started, making you frown.

His blue eyes gazed into yours, neat blond hair pushed away from his face. His handsome face was unreadable, not a hint of emotion peeking through, and his voice was even as he continued.

“I don’t know if they told you why you’re here…”

“They did.”

The main reason for this marriage was so that Steve could produce an heir to continue his family’s legacy. That had been made clear from the beginning, but it didn’t help you any with trying to figure out where this conversation was going.

“…and you understand that’s the _only_ reason you’re here, correct?”

You blinked, a bit shocked as you registered his words. You knew that it played a big part in this marriage, but you hadn’t known that it was the _sole_ reason for this marriage…nor your place here.

“I see,” you whispered, a bit disappointed.

You both turned to pose as a camera flashed, and your conversation continued as he moved you about the dancefloor, a soft breeze ruffling the skirt of your dress.

“I’m not as cruel as they say,” he murmured. “I won’t expect you to just sit in a loveless marriage.”

Your frown deepened as he continued.

“You are free to find affection elsewhere. As am I,” he said, making your eyes widen. “I’m used to a certain lifestyle, and that won’t stop just because we got married, and it would be unfair to not allow you to do the same.”

Your lips parted, and you blinked because this was not how you expected your wedding day to go at all. Here you were, dancing in a courtyard full of people as they watched the two of you celebrate your marriage. Meanwhile, your husband was telling you that he had no intentions of remaining faithful while you were free to do the same because your marriage was for one purpose and one purpose only.

“You…you want me to…”

You trailed off, your words dying in your throat as he looked away from you. Your eyes focused on his side profile, jaw moving every time he talked.

“My father gave me a year to find a wife and start working on producing an heir. He isn’t the most pleasant person to be around when he doesn’t get what he wants. This will satisfy him for the time being while we continue our lives as they were,” he explained.

You pressed your lips together, shoulders dropping as you accepted this.

“…when the time comes, we’ll do what needs to be done to have a child. Until then…”

You supposed that you couldn’t be upset with Steve. This was an arranged marriage after all. Everyone knew how most arranged marriages went, and you were the one who’d imagined this to be something it wasn’t. Besides, it wasn’t his fault that your parents didn’t clue you in on the whole story. You suspected that was for a reason though because had you known, you never would have agreed.

At least he was being transparent with you.

His eyes met yours again, and you nodded at him just as the music slowed to a halt. For the first time since you met, Steve smiled at you, and you did the same, albeit reluctantly. He took your hand and gently handed you off to your father, the older man pulling you into a dance as the music started up.

When you were done dancing with him, you enjoyed a dance with Steve’s father, the older Rogers pulling several laughs from you as he recounted stories of years past. Your dances with the other crime bosses were much more nerve-wracking, the eldest Odinson holding you a tad too tight for your liking. You were relieved when the song ended, and another took his place.

Your next dance partner, while never having the pleasure of meeting him until today, was also not unknown to you. James Barnes was just as well known as your new husband, equally as handsome, and much easier to talk to it seemed.

“You look lovely, Mrs. Rogers,” he told you, and you blinked.

You were taken aback. Sure, your father and even Steve’s father had complimented you on your dress, but Steve hadn’t said a word about how you looked. In fact, he’d hardly spared you a glance. While you accepted your marriage for what it would be, you didn’t realize that meant it would be a cold one.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.”

He smiled at you, a genuine expression as his lips pulled back from his teeth.

“Steve and I are close, and you’ll be seeing a lot of me so please. Call me Bucky,” he told you.

You returned his smile with a nod.

“Okay…Bucky.”

You danced with Bucky for 3 more songs, learning that he and Steve had grown up together and were practically like brothers. You enjoyed dancing with him. He didn’t hold you as tight as Thor Odinson did, but his touch also wasn’t that of a ghost’s like your husband’s. He was attentive during the conversation, looking at you instead of through you and talking with you instead of at you.

When it came time for you and Steve to cut the cake, you were a tad disappointed to part from him. Even more so when the time came for the two of you to be driven off in the limo. You stared out of the window the entire time while Steve took a business call. You occasionally eyed him, wondering if he’d ever hang up to at least have a conversation with you, but it was in vain.

With a sigh, you looked away, and forced yourself to accept that this marriage wasn’t really a marriage at all, and that it would never be. You didn’t know this man, and you weren’t being put under any obligations to love him. Truthfully, you never even had to interact with him at all. You could just bask in his millions while living a life completely separate from him. You realized that plenty of women would kill to be in your place, and it was then and there in the limo, on the way to a honeymoon where your husband wouldn’t even sleep in the same room as you, you’d decided that you would make the best of this.

  


“Do you…have to…leave so soon?”

His thick accent reached your ears as you bent to pick up your dress, smooth voice interrupted by his labored breathing. You slid the satin material over your skin as you pulled it back on, and you felt the bed move beneath you. You smiled when his lips brushed against your bare shoulder, a hum climbing out of his throat as they traveled to your neck.

“Pietro,” you chided.

He pretended like he hadn’t heard you, lips finding yours in a soft kiss when you turned your head. You grinned into his mouth, hand resting on his shoulder.

“I have to go,” you whispered, and he groaned.

He fell back onto the plush bed with a sigh, blue eyes finding yours. He didn’t look happy, but then again, he never did when you had to leave.

“I’ve already stayed much longer than I planned to,” you told him, standing to adjust your dress.

Before you had the chance to reach back and do it yourself, Pietro sat up to zip the material for you. His fingers brushed over your skin as he did so, lingering, and you took in a shaky breath. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and exhaled.

“Let me guess… Steve?”

You let out a snort, shaking your head while you held in a chuckle.

“When is it ever Steve?”

You and your husband had been together for almost a year, and you’d probably seen the man _maybe_ 10 times. Steve had his life, and you had yours. Not once had the two ever mixed, not even for something as mundane as dinner. You heard Pietro scoff, and you stepped away from him to put on your shoes.

“James,” he decided, so much disdain dripping from his voice you’d think that James had fucked his mother or something. “Of course, it’s James.”

You glanced at him from over your shoulder.

“Do I detect some jealousy?”

“Of course, you do!”

You turned to face Pietro as he stood, naked as the day he was born.

“He always gets you. You like him better,” he said with a pout, and you tilted your head.

You did feel a bit guilty because what he said was true, but it couldn’t be helped. You and Pietro had only just started seeing each other two months ago. Bucky had made his intentions clear with you barely a month into your marriage.

You had been taken aback at his boldness, especially since you’d only been married to his best friend for 30 days, but then you remembered that Steve had probably resumed the activities of his former life as soon as you had returned from your honeymoon.

He was never home, always out late, and on the rare occasion you did cross paths, he hardly spared you a glance. It had been a bit lonely at first, most of your free time filled with shopping or reading or cooking. That all changed when Steve required your presence at some stuffy event. The limo ride had been silent, and you’d taken it upon yourself to part from him as soon as you entered the building.

Bucky had found you in one of the many empty hallways, admiring some painting while you sipped on a glass of champagne. He had complimented you just like he’d done on your wedding day, and you shyly thanked him, not used to the attention. Having been familiar with the building, he gave you a tour, keeping you company and making you laugh the whole night.

As you made your way to one of the upper floors, you had stumbled, courtesy of the alcohol in your system. Bucky caught you with a laugh, telling you that maybe you needed to slow down before plucking the glass out of your hand. You couldn’t remember when nor how he’d gotten so close, but his lips were suddenly on yours.

…and you were kissing him back.

You had eventually stumbled away, feeling wrong despite the fact that Steve said it was okay. Despite the fact that your husband had been doing this very thing all along. You left Bucky there in a hurry, easily finding Steve. He had been looking for you too, ready to go. The ride home was just as silent, but for once, your sham of marriage wasn’t on your mind. It was the feel of Bucky’s lips on yours.

You busied yourself for days, shopping and going out to eat to keep your mind off of one James Barnes. It came to a screeching halt when a limo that wasn’t yours was waiting outside for you when you exited one of your favorite stores. You knew it was Bucky before the window even rolled down, and you had every intention of telling him no when he offered you a ride home.

Your mind said no, and you had even convinced your heart to say no, but when you opened your mouth, that wasn’t what escaped. Confused with yourself, you reluctantly slid into the dark vehicle as he opened the door for you. He had offered you something to drink, and you had shaken your head, avoiding his eyes.

After a while, he moved to join you on your side, gently taking your hand. You didn’t stop him. His free one rested under your chin, tilting your head up so that your eyes were on him. You remembered thinking that he looked more handsome than usual that day, blue eyes brighter and dark hair styled perfectly. His eyes had searched yours as he leaned in to kiss you.

You didn’t stop him.

Your legs shook when you slowly made your way to your front door, a dazed smile on your lips. You had leaned your back against the door, ignorant to the housekeeper as they called your name. As you had made your way up the stairs, Bucky’s scent still clinging to your skin, for once, you were happy to be all alone in this big house.

You had touched yourself that night, no longer a faceless being behind your eyes, but instead James Buchanan Barnes. You woke up that next morning feeling better than you had in weeks, your mood only lifting when a knock sounded on the front door. Bucky was there with a bouquet of flowers, dressed impeccably with his limo waiting behind him. You told him to give you 30 minutes, and 30 minutes later, in a dress that you had bought yourself weeks ago to cheer you up, he was leading you towards the car.

The rest was history.

You pulled yourself from your reverie, frowning a bit at Pietro.

“Well, he’s here. You go back home in, what…2 days?” you wondered with a shrug. “I only see you for a week before you’re flying back home for another month.”

Pietro ran his eyes over you, lips down turned.

“You could come with me,” he whispered.

This conversation was not unfamiliar to you, and you rolled your eyes.

“Even if I wanted to Pietro, that would never happen,” you said, holding up your left hand. “I’m married.”

“Barely,” he mumbled.

You laughed at that, putting your earrings back in.

“True marriage or not, I don’t think Steve would take too kindly to me running off with one of my lovers. His pride wouldn’t survive it.”

“Screw his pride, the man is an idiot,” he spat, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer. “We both know it’s James you worry about. There’s no doubt in my mind he’d have me killed for stealing you away.”

You pecked his lips, pulling away before reaching for your coat and your purse.

“You’re probably right. All the more reason I can’t just run off with you,” you told him.

He heaved a heavy sigh as you made your way to the door.

“I’ll call you later?” you said, glancing at him.

Pietro rolled his eyes, but a fond smile found its way onto his lips anyway.

“Of course.”

As you made your way out of the suite and into the elevator, you found yourself thinking about your fling with Pietro. He was beautiful and cultured, and he made your head spin. However, he was flighty. You knew that Pietro had a roster of women lined at his feet, and you were simply his favorite. Pietro was not the kind of man you just run off with. Sure, your marriage to Steve wasn’t a marriage at all, but it provided security, and you’d be silly to give that up for a womanizer who would lose interest in less than 4 months.

Besides, what Pietro said did have a grain of truth to it. There was no doubt in your mind that Bucky would kill the man for stealing you away. If Pietro, like all the others, was a fling, then Bucky… Well, Bucky was probably the love of your life. It was strange to finally admit that to yourself, but you did love him. Sometimes it felt like you were married to him instead of Steve, and sometimes, when it was just the two of you, you wished that were true.

  


You sighed into Bucky’s mouth as he pressed his hips into yours, warmth filling you as you came around him for the second time that night. Your fingers were tangled into his hair, a shudder passing through you while his fingers pressed into your hips.

“Stay the night,” he whispered against your lips.

You chuckled, throwing your head back as he brushed his own against your jaw.

“That would make it the third night in a row. I shouldn’t,” you replied. “God forbid Steve remembers my existence and actually needs me for something now of all times. It would be just my luck.”

He rolled off of you with a sigh, exasperation coloring his tone.

“Just tell him you’re busy,” he slyly said, tracing his finger down your side.

You slapped his hand away, and he laughed.

“That’s not part of the deal,” you reminded him.

He scoffed, and you sat up. You and Steve never brought up your separate lives in conversation. While that was hardly a possibility before, seeing as he never talked to you, in a week, you and he will have been married a year and 4 months, and you were seeing more of him than you were used to. Bucky had mentioned something about some shipments he was letting Tony handle, and you guessed that gave Steve more free time. You were surprised he didn’t want to fill that time with one of his many mistresses.

“Right. What is it again? Don’t ask…”

“…don’t tell,” you finished. “…and never in the house.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, resting his hand behind his head as he gazed at you, dark hair mussed.

“Are you happy?” Bucky suddenly asked you, and you paused, turning to fully face him. “I mean with him. Are you happy with him?”

You frowned, mulling over that question.

“Well,” you breathed. “There’s not really an answer for that. I’m not _with_ him.”

Bucky sat up too, now, and you continued.

“He and I, aside from our names on a piece of paper, aren’t together. I am…a womb waiting to be used to produce an heir to satisfy his family,” you said. “So, I’m not happy or unhappy with him because I am not with him. Truthfully, I’m with you...and I’m very happy with you.”

“Then _be_ with me.”

Bucky’s face was clouded in desperation, and you blinked at him, frowning.

“What are you saying…?”

Bucky huffed, running his hand through his hair before taking your hand.

“I’m saying ditch the other guy,” he threw at you, and you barked a disbelieving laugh.

“The other guy! You mean Steve? Your best friend? That Steve?”

Bucky heaved a sigh as he got out of bed, and you watched as he pulled his pants on.

“Look, I love Steve, but he’s an idiot. I don’t care what kind of lifestyle I was used to. If I were marrying you, I’d turn my back on it all no questions asked just to have you every night,” he said, and your face softened. “If all he needs is a baby maker, he can easily find another wife.”

“Bucky,” you sighed.

“Leave him,” he pleaded. “…and be with me.”

“You know, the last time I saw Pietro, he was demanding the exact same thing from me.”

Bucky’s lip curled at the mention of the other man that you hadn’t seen in months, and you laughed.

“How is Pietro these days, anyway?”

You fixed him with a look.

“You know that I haven’t even talked to Pietro in months. After my last refusal to run off with him, he quickly lost interest.”

Bucky smiled, face brightening as he shrugged.

“I know. I just like to hear you say it.”

You tossed a pillow at him as he laughed, moving to get dressed. He pulled you into his side as soon as you were both clothed, fingers dancing along your waist.

“I like having you all to myself,” he murmured, lips meeting your cheek.

He helped you into your coat before walking you downstairs. It was colder these days, and he tightened his hold on you as he walked you to his car. The drive to your house was quiet, but not uncomfortable, Bucky’s hand in yours as you looked out of the window. It was late at night, but the city was even livelier than it was during the day. When his driver slowly pulled into your driveway, Bucky pressed his lips to yours, reluctant to pull away.

You felt the same, and you didn’t want to admit it to yourself that his proposal was tempting. His hand tightly held yours as you stepped out of the limo, making sure you didn’t fall. Just before you turned to leave, he brought the back of your hand to his lips, blue eyes drinking you in.

“Think about it,” he murmured, and you threw him a sad smile, promising him that you would.

Your heart was heavy as you pressed your key into the door, pressing your back to it as soon as you shut it. You stood in the foyer, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh. All those months ago, when Pietro had asked you to leave your husband, it had been easy to turn him down. Bucky? Not so much. Feeling like you wanted to cry for the first time in forever, you slowly made your way into the living room.

“You’re out late.”

A startled shriek left your lips, hip bumping into the table beside you just as light flooded the room in time to watch the vase of flowers shatter against the floor. Fear forgotten, you pressed your hand to your heart, sucking your teeth at the vase Bucky had gotten you last year. He bought you fresh flowers every week to fill it with.

“Oh no,” you sighed, kneeling to grab them.

You heard Steve move behind you, footsteps growing louder as he neared. You glanced at him as you stood, shaking the water and glass off of the flowers.

“Jesus, Steve. You almost gave me a heart attack,” you complained.

“Sorry,” he evenly replied. “Was this new?”

He was referring to the vase, and you tripped over your words.

“Uh…no. N-not exactly,” you said, making your way to the kitchen.

You sat the flowers on the counter, grabbing the broom and dustpan before making your way back into the living room. You frowned at the mere presence of Steve, wondering what he was even doing home. Perhaps that was a bit unfair of you, but you had grown so used to not having him around. You preferred it. You could feel his eyes on you as you swept up the glass, even still when you returned to wipe up the water.

“We have a housekeeper for that,” he said, making you frown again.

“I’m aware,” you replied, standing. “…but what sense would it make for me to leave this here all night just so Peter can clean it up in the morning when I’m perfectly capable of doing it right now?”

Steve nodded, and you made to move towards the kitchen again when he spoke.

“You were out late.”

You paused to look at him, realizing that was what he’d said when you first came in, scaring the crap out of you. With a frown, you looked at your watch.

“It’s only 1:17,” you told him.

You were normally out much later, but Steve always came home in the early hours of the morning, if he came home at all, so of course he wouldn’t know that. He simply nodded at your response, hands on his hips. He was still dressed like he’d only recently gotten home himself, and you again wondered why he was even home, but you decided that you didn’t particularly care.

He was still standing there when you exited the kitchen, flowers left in the sink. You wouldn’t worry too much about them. It was almost time for Bucky to buy you a new bouquet anyway. You barely spared Steve a glance as you made your way to the stairs, briefly pausing when he wished you a goodnight. You threw him a small frown before wishing him the same, Bucky returning to your thoughts the minute you entered your bedroom.

  


You were startled again when you entered the kitchen the next morning, finding Steve already there sipping on a cup of coffee. Once again, his presence confused you, but you kept it to yourself. You don’t think you had ever woken up to find Steve still in the house, and certainly not in the kitchen. You didn’t greet him as you made your way to the fridge, grabbing some lemon to put in your water.

Silence filled the room as you went about cutting a few slices, preparing your drink. It seemed a little tense, but you were determined to ignore it. You were meeting Bucky in an hour and it would take half that just to figure out what to wear. You were pulled from your thoughts by Steve’s voice.

“You never did say where you were last night.”

You glanced up at him, a slight frown on your face before you released a light chuckle. You heard him set his mug down, and when you looked up again, his eyes were on you. He was casually dressed today, a first for him. He still had on the usual black slacks, but he’d traded the button down for a simple white tee.

“Something funny?”

His voice was low, a tone he used on his subordinates you were sure, but you merely nodded your head.

“Yes. You.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to frown, eyes narrowed just a bit.

“How so?”

“You’ve never been curious about my whereabouts before,” you told him.

“Well, that was before I knew you weren’t coming home,” he said.

You sighed, setting the knife down as realization hit you.

“We were supposed to attend a gala last night, and I came home the other day to tell you, but you weren’t here. You never even came through the door, and that was concerning,” he explained. “If you hadn’t walked through the door last night, I was going to send a search party.”

“I have a phone.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, pulling said phone out of his pocket before placing it on the counter.

“A phone that you left here.”

You grimaced, sheepishly taking it. You could get so caught up with Bucky sometimes that you were positive you’d lose your head if it weren’t attached to you. Your eyes met Steve’s, apologetic.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better about keeping it with me,” you promised.

He heaved a sigh, taking another sip, eyes never leaving yours. You rolled your eyes, realizing what he wanted, before dropping your knife into the sink.

“I was with a friend,” you told him. “…but as you can see, I’m safe and sound. There’s no reason to worry.”

You slipped out of the kitchen before he could respond, determined to hurry up and get dressed. This wasn’t the first time that you’d forgotten your phone at home, it was just the first time you’d done so, and Steve happened to need you.

He wasn’t in the kitchen when you came back down, dressed and ready to go, but you could hear him upstairs. Practically itching to get out of this house and away from his cold stare, you hurriedly made your way outside. In the car, you took your time to check your phone, grimacing at the 3 missed calls from Steve. However, a smile found its way onto your face at the message from Bucky. He’d sent it last night after he dropped you off, telling you to think about it.

It was the first thing he brought up as soon as you met him at the restaurant too.

“Steve won’t even miss you. Hell, he _doesn’t_ miss you, but I do. I miss you all the time,” he said.

“Funny, you miss me all the time when I feel like I’m with you all the time,” you commented, picking at your appetizer.

Bucky tilted his head, pretending to think.

“I’d say you’re with me about 90% of the time-.”

“90%, you don’t say,” you mocked.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “90%, and that other 10%, I’m practically dying.”

You rolled your eyes.

“How _do_ you manage…”

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he continued, taking your hand. “Leave him. There are a million women who could easily take your place, women who _want_ to be in your place. He gets one of them, you get me, and we’re all happy.”

You smirked at him, attention falling to your food again.

“Why Mr. Barnes, I do believe you’re trying to wreck my marriage,” you teased.

“Hardly. I’m simply trying to start a new one.”

Your eyes snapped to his, that teasing smile falling from your lips as you registered his words. Your heart skipped a beat, and your lips parted as he eyed you, his tongue darting out to wet his own.

“…what?”

“Doll…what did you think when I said _be_ with me?”

You shook your head, shrugging.

“I…I don’t know, but I didn’t think you meant marriage. You want to marry me?”

He took your hand in both of his, pressing his lips to the skin, a brown strand kissing his forehead.

“Of course, I do. More than anything. Wouldn’t you like that?”

You thought about it, chewing on your lip.

“…waking up to each other every morning, falling asleep to each other every night. I’d bring you breakfast in bed and we’d…work on our little family…”

Your gaze met his again, and you found that you loved the sound of that.

“Are you…proposing to me…?”

The idea was absurd, especially considering you already had a ring on your finger. Bucky chuckled, shaking his head.

“Not really. I just wanted you to know my full intentions, that I’m not just fooling around here.”

You stewed over what he said while he continued.

“I’m not going to pressure you anymore, but you know how serious I am now, and I want you to think about it,” he softly told you.

You slowly nodded, still in shock.

“I will,” you quietly replied.

His grin widened, and he sat back in his seat.

“After we leave here, we can go pick out a nice bouquet, yeah?”

You suddenly blinked as you remembered last night, a smile on your face.

“Yes, please, and…a vase too?” you guiltily asked.

He frowned, tilting his head before nodding.

“Of course. What happened to your vase?”

You huffed a sigh.

“I broke it. I bumped into the table, courtesy of Steve,” you complained, shaking your head.

“Steve? What do you mean?” he demanded, voice dropping.

“It was nothing. He was waiting for me when I got home last night, in the dark like a _creep_ , and he practically gave me a heart attack,” you explained.

Bucky didn’t respond for a while, simply humming. He picked at his food, lips pursed as he eyed you.

“Why was he waiting for you?”

“Apparently there was some gala last night? He’d been planning to tell me I had to be in attendance with him but _someone…_ ,” you threw him a pointed look “…prevented me from going home the other night. Add in that I had left my phone at home, I guess Steve convinced himself that I had been kidnapped or something.”

Bucky simply hummed in response, and you both finished your lunch. Your days spent with Bucky always went by fast, and you were always sad to wish him goodbye. His proposal was taking up more and more residence in your mind, especially as you watched him drive off. You stood at your door, staring after his car with your coat wrapped around you, wondering what it would be like to go home to him every night.

With a sigh, you turned and made your way inside. You were greeted by the sight of Steve, voice low as he pressed his phone to his ear. You sent him a small polite smile before making your way to the kitchen to fill up your new vase, fresh flowers in your left hand. You were just cutting them when he joined you, and you turned to curiously look at him.

“I need you to accompany me to an event tomorrow,” he told you to which you nodded, wondering if Bucky was going to be there.

“Okay.”

You didn’t hear him leave as you turned back around, dropping the flowers into the water, satisfied. Your suspicions turned out to be correct when you turned around only to find him still standing there.

“I could’ve replaced the vase if I’d known it was that important,” he said with a small frown.

You shook your head, moving past him.

“It’s fine,” you honestly told him.

His eyes were still on you as you sat it down, adjusting it to a position that you liked. You tightened your coat around you as you passed him, ascending the stairs with a small ‘goodnight’ thrown over your shoulder.

  


You woke up the next morning feeling positively ill. Every inhale had your stomach churning, and you cursed yourself, trying to remember everything you ate the day before. You had planned to at least see Bucky for a little bit before this shindig tonight, but the summersaults going on in your stomach had you canceling on him. The silver lining was that he apparently was going to be in attendance tonight, and that made you feel better.

Again, Steve was home all day, but you didn’t see him until it was time to go. You had remained in bed all day, drifting in and out of sleep, fighting off every wave of nausea that came at you. You though that you did a good job of hiding your discomfort, but Steve had asked you if you were alright the minute you came downstairs. You told him that you were fine, a whopper of a lie, but your attendance was mandatory so what else could you do?

Like all of your car rides together, this one was silent, but you could feel Steve’s eyes on you every now and then. You couldn’t be bothered to question him on it, too preoccupied with keeping your food down. Your nausea only got worse the minute the two of you stepped into the building. The smell of food was heavy in the air, and there was no doubt that you were starting to look as sick as you felt.

Your eyes fell on a group of familiar faces, one more familiar than the rest. You threw them all strained smiles as you approached, head feeling a bit light. You couldn’t even be bothered to care that Steve’s hand was on the small of your back, more important things to worry about other than his unusual behavior.

You had just reached your friends and acquaintances when a server came by with a tray of food. The smell that hit your nose had your stomach clenching, and you barely had enough time to swipe a napkin before your food was coming up.

“Oh my God, Y/N,” Nat cried, hurrying towards you with a bowl.

There was some slight commotion as her husband, Bruce, and Sam hurried to flag down some help for the mess. Nat’s hand was on your shoulder, helping you towards a seat, and you could feel Steve’s hand still on your lower back.

“Y/N?”

He sounded worried, and you only figured out why when your legs crumbled. You hadn’t realized that your lashes had begun to flutter as your steps started to slow.

“Woah,” he said, catching you as you fought to straighten your vision.

He sat you down, and you could feel several people fanning you. Steve was wiping your hands clean when Bucky finally neared, brows furrowed in concern, looking as handsome as ever. Too bad you couldn’t truly appreciate it.

“I’m okay,” you told him before he could even start. “Just ate the wrong thing, I think.”

Bucky didn’t look convinced, and he sat down beside you, pressing his hand to your forehead.

“You don’t feel warm,” he murmured, and you shook your head at him.

“It was just some bad food,” you whispered, trying to ease his worries.

Again, he didn’t look convinced, but he nodded anyway. He stood with a sigh.

“I’m going to go get your coat,” he said, and you thanked him.

You could feel Steve’s eyes on you, but when you looked at him, you couldn’t make out his expression. His hand was still on your lower back, and you finally breathed better when he pulled away, standing.

“I’ll be back. I’m going to the valet, make sure the car is ready so we can go.”

Your face fell, feeling like you ruined his night.

“I’m sorry, Steve-.”

“What for? You’re clearly sick. I wish you had said something.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he sounded upset that you didn’t tell him, but it was more likely he was upset that you had in fact ruined his night. With a soft squeeze to your shoulder, he was gone.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” T’Challa asked you, and you nodded.

His wife, Nakia, came hurrying over with a glass of water, and you gratefully took it. You were even more grateful that you could keep it down, and you sent her a small smile as you handed the empty glass back to her.

“Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it,” she said, shaking her head. “You must be feeling awful. I’m grateful that I don’t get sick often because the only time I have ever vomited is when…well, when I was pregnant.”

She chuckled, and you froze.

“…and I love my children dearly, but I do not want to go through that again.”

You joined her, a nervous laugh escaping you just as Bucky returned with your coat. You jumped, having been surprised to feel the fur draped over you, but you allowed him to help you up. He rubbed your arms through the fabric, voice low.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Nakia’s words had your mind racing, and your lips parted because honestly? You didn’t know. You didn’t want to scare Bucky over nothing, but you also wanted to voice your sudden fears that you had never even considered before. All too soon, the two of you were meeting Steve at the door, and Steve’s grip was firm as he took you from Bucky’s hold, eyes hard.

“I got it from here, Buck. Thanks.”

His voice was clipped, and you frowned at him, but Bucky simply nodded, bidding you both goodnight before reluctantly making his way back inside. You wanted to tell Steve that he didn’t have to be rude to Bucky just because you ruined his evening, but another wave of nausea hit you.

Your head leaned against the window as soon as Steve deposited you into the car. The fresh air was ebbing your nausea a bit, the low rumble of the car helping. You hadn’t taken the limo, and you were starting to regret that because you really wanted to lie down, but fatigue still found a way to slowly creep up on you.

If only Steve had allowed it to do so.

“I really wish you had told me you weren’t feeling well. We would have stayed home,” he said.

You sighed.

“I was hoping it would go away. Our attendance was mandatory, Steve,” you whispered.

“Not at the expense of your health,” he sneered.

You rolled your eyes, realizing the root of his annoyance.

“I promise you, I’ll be in good enough health to give you your heir. It was just some bad food…”

Steve heaved a sigh, and you felt his eyes on you.

“This isn’t about a baby. This is about you. Watching you drop to the floor like that was…scary,” he admitted.

“I’m fine,” you said, feeling like a broken record.

“Well, you don’t look fine. You look sickly. Are you taking care of yourself like you should?”

You scoffed, wondering where this was coming from. The man who barely talked to you in almost 2 years was suddenly acting like your father, and you didn’t like it.

“Of course, I am.”

He exhaled.

“I just know that the house can be…lonely. It can get to you if you’re not careful.”

You rested your head on your hand, breathing through your mouth.

“I’m far from lonely, Steve, so really. There’s no need to worry…”

You could feel his eyes on you again, a soft ‘oh’ reaching your ears.

“I’m glad to hear it. Maybe you should go and see a doctor,” he proposed, quickly changing the subject.

You swallowed another sigh, not wanting to talk about this another minute.

“I told you, it was just some bad food.”

That was what you told yourself, but Nakia’s words almost made you want to hurl again. It only recently occurred to you that you hadn’t gotten your period in a while, but you didn’t think too much of it because you had never been regular. Still, you and Bucky weren’t always safe, but that was what birth control was for. What were the odds of your birth control failing you during one of the few times you didn’t use a condom?

However, the next day, as you stood in the bathroom, looking down at the positive pregnancy test in horror, you realized that the odds were great.


	2. Seeds of Tomorrow

You stewed over your news for days, unsure of how to navigate this. There was a brief moment where you struggled with who to tell first before the obvious answer slapped you in the face. Of course, Bucky was going to be who you went to first. You needed to figure out what the two of you would do about this, and depending on what that was, there might not be a need to even tell Steve.

Your first order of business was going to a doctor. Sure, your test, and the two more after it, was positive, but you needed more details than that. You needed to know how far along you were and if you were in good health. The day after your enlightening appointment, you called Bucky to let him know that you needed to see him.

You hadn’t seen him, nor Steve, in days. Not since you found out the news. You’d taken the time to cry and stress and mull over several courses of actions, several outcomes that could take place. Steve was gone the day you decided to meet Bucky, and for that, you were grateful. He’d been hanging around more and more as of late, and if that didn’t unnerve you, his attempts at making light conversation did. It never progressed passed a few exchanges through your closed door, and you wondered if his father was breathing down his neck about a son. What other reason could Steve possibly have for talking to you?

Bucky kissed your cheeks as soon as you slid into his limo, holding your hand in his lap as you sat beside him. He looked so excited to see you, and you wondered how long that would last. The conversation was light, Bucky only able to get one- or two-word answers out of you, and as he eyed you, you knew that he could tell that something was wrong.

He helped you out of your thick coat the minute you stepped inside of his house, and you rubbed your hands up and down your arms as he hung it up. He turned to look at you with a frown, hands resting on your shoulders.

“Somethings bothering you. Is it Steve?”

“…sort of. We need to talk…”

Your tone was grim, and Bucky’s face fell, but he guided you up the stairs, nonetheless. You sat down on his bed as he closed his bedroom door, reaching inside of your purse. You had tossed your pregnancy tests the minute you came back from the doctor with the slip of paper that confirmed your condition. Worry filled Bucky’s eyes as you handed it to him, and you watched as he hesitantly took it.

His blue eyes scanned over it, widening when he got to the middle, and you saw the way he paused before reading it again from the top. When he was done, his wide eyes met yours, and he took a cautious step towards you.

“You… You’re pregnant?”

You nodded at him.

“Just…a little over 3 months, and… I haven’t seen Pietro in 4 months so…”

“So it’s mine,” Bucky breathed, and you nodded.

You sharply inhaled when Bucky fell to his knees before you, wrapping his arms around you as he pressed his face into your stomach. You closed your eyes when he peppered kisses against you through the fabric, your hand reaching up to run through his dark hair.

“Bucky,” you said with a sad smile. “We have to talk about our options.”

He snapped his head up to meet your gaze, brows drawn together.

“What options? Y/N, this is our chance. You _have_ to leave him now, and this will convince him to agree,” he replied.

Your lips parted, and you blinked as realization hit you. A part of you, one you didn’t want to acknowledge, swelled at his words.

“You want to keep it…?”

Bucky tilted his head at you.

“Don’t you?”

You thought about it as he continued.

“If it wasn’t for Steve…if it was just you and me… Would you want to keep this baby?”

“Of course,” you answered without hesitation because Steve was your only concern.

He threw you a small smile.

“Then we are keeping it,” he whispered.

“…but…what about Steve? What if he doesn’t agree to a divorce? What if he’s angry?”

Bucky pressed his lips together, a small smirk dancing along them.

“He’ll agree to the divorce, doll. I know Steve better than anyone. He isn’t going to want to raise someone else’s kid. He’s not going to pass on his legacy to a child that isn’t his, and he’s definitely not going to want to deal with all the questions that will surely come when he _doesn’t_ pass his legacy onto a kid that everyone _thinks_ is his.”

You considered this.

“People will figure it out. People will talk. Steve likes his reputation…his image… He’ll give you the divorce. He might be angry that he has to go through this whole marriage process again, he might even throw some dirt on your name, but he’ll let you leave,” he continued.

Bucky stood, hands clasping yours as you looked up at him. A slow nervous smile made its way onto your lips, and a shaky laugh escaped you.

“So…we’re doing this?”

Bucky joined you before pulling you up, yanking you closer until his lips met yours. You hummed into this kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as he wrapped his arms around you.

“You’re pregnant,” he breathed in awe as he pulled away.

He shook his head in slight disbelief, but his smile was the largest you’d ever seen on him.

“You’re pregnant,” he murmured again just before he kissed you again.

His hands made quick work of getting you out of your dress as he moved you back. You both fell onto the bed in a heap, you giggling because Bucky’s lips and fingers just refused to stay in one place, and him growling in frustration because he couldn’t get you naked fast enough.

“You’re going to get so big…so round,” he moaned, pressing his lips to your collarbone.

“Stop,” you begged, heat warming your face at the thought.

“Never,” he breathed, his bare chest grazing yours as he looked at you.

His eyes flitted over your face, drinking you in like he was trying to memorize every detail. He reached up to brush his fingers over your face, across your lips, ghosting over your jaw. He softly pressed his lips to yours as he slid inside of you, your back arching at the feel. You exhaled into his mouth, lips parting as he sank into you to the hilt.

“You have never looked more beautiful than you do now,” he whispered, pulling his hips back before pressing into you again.

You wrapped your arms around him, lips parted as soft moans climbed out of them.

“I can’t wait to call you my wife,” he murmured, just before swallowing your moans with a kiss.

  


You spent just about all day with Bucky, losing count of how many times you came undone for him. In between, he made sure to bring you food and water, not wanting a repeat of the last gala you went to. Your blissful mood waned however, when you neared your house. Bucky rubbed the back of your hand with his fingers, eyeing you.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

You shook your head.

“No. I think it’s best if I do this alone,” you told him.

His expression was unreadable when you looked at him, and he sighed.

“I’ll wait outside then,” he said.

You tilted your head, a soft look on your face as you rested your other hand on his cheek.

“You don’t have to do that,” you replied, shaking your head.

Bucky smirked, but it lacked humor, and you watched the way he eyed the big house through the tinted windows.

“You don’t know Steve like I know Steve.”

His words gave you pause, and you worriedly eyed him.

“Yes, he inherited the business from his father, but it takes a certain kind of man to keep it up and running, especially as well as he does.”

You frowned at him, and his eyes met yours.

“The truth is, you don’t know your husband, at all. You don’t know what he’s capable of, so yes,” he said, making your eyes widen as he reached for his gun and placed it in his lap. “I will wait right outside.”

You were suddenly very nervous, much more than you were before, and you realized that you would have to be way more gentle with the news than you realized. You nodded at Bucky, accepting his quick kiss before allowing him to help you out of the limo. A biting wind hit your cheek, making you wince as you tightened your coat around you. Part of you wished that Steve wasn’t home, but you knew the odds of that were slim.

You were proven right when you walked through the door.

He was leaning back into the couch, ankle resting on the opposite knee as he mulled over some paperwork in his hands. He glanced up at you when you slowly made your way into the living room, blue eyes quickly scanning over your frame.

“You weren’t here when I got back,” he said, eyes returning to the papers before him.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I was…with a friend.”

He cut his eyes to you, and there was that look again. The one he’d given you the night of the gala, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He didn’t give a proper response, merely humming. There were a few seconds of silence before you swallowed.

“Steve, we need to talk.”

You watched as he paused, setting the papers down on the coffee table before looking to you. His expression was unreadable, but that same old cold look was in his eye. You weren’t accustomed to being on the receiving end of it, at least not for this long, and your heart fluttered.

“My only purpose is to…give birth to an heir, correct?”

You could tell that Steve wasn’t expecting that to come out of your mouth, and he frowned a bit before nodding.

“Yes. Maybe 2 more children after that, but that is why you’re here.”

You nodded.

“…and so…anyone could do that, right? If a baby is all you need then any woman could do that for you? It doesn’t have to be me?”

He didn’t respond right away, and you watched as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He swiftly stood, large hands resting on his hips as he eyed you. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and God, did you hate that.

“This conversation is hypothetical…?” he eventually asked although it sounded more like a demand.

Hesitantly, you shook your head at him. You watched as his nostrils flared, jaw clenching as he watched you take off your ring. It was big and shiny and ostentatious in every way. It had never been your style, and you knew there was no shortage of women who’d cut your finger off just to have it. His gaze was icy as you held it up towards him.

“What is the meaning of this?”

You took a deep breath, and Steve’s eyes followed the action.

“I’m asking you to find another woman to give you what you need. I’m sure there’s a whole line of them plotting on my downfall, no idea that…you were never mine to begin with,” you told him.

He took a step towards you, visibly upset now, but you stood your ground.

“We have an arrangement-.”

“Yes, and I’m asking you to find another woman for your arrangement. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but it should be easy for you. It can’t be me, Steve,” you whispered. “Not anymore.”

He scoffed, a mocking smirk on his lips as he glared at you.

“Why? Because you can’t handle it anymore?”

“Excuse me?” you said, blinking in confusion.

He neared you, but you were so taken aback by the turn in conversation that you didn’t move.

“You knew what this marriage entailed the very first day. I made it very clear, and I thought that we were both on the same page,” he started.

“I know. We were-!”

“Clearly not, because here you are, standing before me, throwing in the towel because my lifestyle is getting to you. Because you can’t handle it,” he sneered.

You frowned at him, understanding hitting you, and you blinked a few times. You shook your head at him.

“No, Steve. That’s…that’s not what this is about, _at all_ ,” you told him.

He tilted his head.

“ _Isn’t it_? Have the lonely nights gotten to you? I told you that you were just as free to-.”

“I know that! Steve, that isn’t what-!”

“Or is this some grand scheme of yours?” he sneered, making you rear back. “…do you think you can threaten me into being with you and only you? You think this little performance, this ultimatum will force me to give up a lifestyle I have been accustomed to for _years_?”

“No, of course not. That’s not what I’m-.”

“I’m calling your bluff, _Mrs. Rogers_ ,” he said, turning his back on you. “So, you can put that ring back on and either suffer in silence or get-.”

“I’m pregnant!”

Steve froze, and you sighed, disappointed with how this conversation was going. You had a plan, damnit! You had a way you were going to go about this, and then Steve just went and ruined all of that. He turned to face you, lips parted and brows furrowed as he mulled over your confession. He pressed his lips together, face suddenly taut as he ran his eyes over you, and you squirmed under his shocked gaze.

“This isn’t about other women or ultimatums or whatever. I’m pregnant, Steve…and it’s _obviously_ not yours, hence the little dilemma I find myself in,” you continued.

“Pregnant,” he murmured, more to himself than you, but you nodded anyway.

“…and…Bucky he-.”

“ _Bucky?_ ”

His eyes bulged, tone incredulous as he took a step towards you. You swallowed, lips pressed together as he blinked, putting two and two together.

“…as in… _my_ Bucky? _James?_ ”

You looked away, feeling a bit guilty that it was his best friend of all people. You knew this was a lot of information to take in, and you didn’t envy Steve in this moment, but you knew that he was just shocked is all. You were pregnant with someone else’s child, Bucky’s child, and should things go your way, he’d have to go through the process all over again of finding a wife. You knew this was frustrating for him.

“Yes. Bucky wants me to keep it…and I agree,” you quietly continued.

Steve said nothing, just stared at you, face pinched. His hands flexed, and you took a step towards him. He stared you down, but his shoulders sagged a bit at the pleading look on your face.

“Let me be with him, Steve.”

His jaw ticked, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek.

“You don’t need me. There’s no shortage of women who would happily take my place. Who could give you what you need,” you said.

He sharply inhaled, straightening as he looked away from you, and your heart sank.

“Steve, _please_. They get you, you get your son, and Bucky and I get each other. Everybody wins,” you explained.

He sharply cut his eyes to yours, gaze hard as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Is that how you see it?”

His tone made you nervous, and you hurriedly grabbed his hand. He looked just as shocked as you felt because when was the last time you’d done so? Your wedding day? Almost two years ago?

“I’ve never asked you for anything. Never! Despite the fact that this marriage was not what I initially expected, despite the fact that I wasn’t keen on the idea of me and my husband seeing other people, I accepted it. I made the best of it…”

He simply stared at you, and you went on.

“Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to go to Bucky of all people. It definitely wasn’t smart to be as careless as we were, but I won’t apologize for it. I’ll apologize for inconveniencing you, for springing this on you, but I won’t apologize for falling in love. Especially not when I can be easily replaced,” you told him. “Say whatever you want. Say I ruined the marriage, say I was a complete bitch, I don’t care. Just…let me be with him, Steve. This is the only thing I’ve ever asked of you.”

Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest at any moment, and all the while, Steve simply stared. Your eyes searched his for any kind of clue, anything that would tell you what he was thinking, but he simply looked towards the ceiling. His broad shoulders heaved as he released a long sigh, throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“…alright.”

You froze, eyes widening, and he lowered his head until his eyes met yours.

“I will…draw up the divorce papers tomorrow-.”

He didn’t even finish before you were throwing your arms around him, a million ‘thank yous’ escaping your lips.

“I don’t want anything, Steve. Nothing. Everything is yours just…thank you,” you breathed.

Steve was frozen for a moment, taken aback by your uncharacteristic display of affection. You supposed that you couldn’t blame him. The two of you had never hugged before. Reluctantly, he wrapped his own arms around you, briefly returning the gesture before you both let go. You smiled at him, a genuine gesture that you had never given him before, and his hands fell to his sides.

“Thank you, Steve,” you tearfully told him. “Thank you.”

You leaned in to press your lips to his cheek, but Steve turned his head, lips meeting yours. It was brief, and you pulled away in shock, but you didn’t think much of it. Maybe it was an accident, and even if it wasn’t, there was no harm in a simple kiss goodbye. Steve had given you everything you wanted, so you wouldn’t fault him for it.

You tightened your coat around you as you stepped away, thanking him again. You turned the minute you got to the living room entrance, sprinting for the door without hesitation. Bucky was leaning against the limo when you stepped outside, and your smile was wide as you headed straight for him. He caught you in his arms, lips finding yours the minute he pulled you into the car.

  


“…we can come back to that later. What if it’s a boy?”

Bucky threw you a look across the table, and you chuckled, rolling your eyes.

“Of course. James Buchanan Barnes the 2nd,” you said, Bucky joining in as he took your hand.

“Are you nervous?”

You shook your head at him with a small smile.

“I don’t care what it is. As long as it’s healthy,” you told him, and he brushed his thumb over the back of your hand. “I know a male is preferred…in this line of business.”

Your voice grew small, and Bucky frowned at you, standing to help you stand.

“That’s true, but my family is not as old fashioned as Steve’s. A daughter could run this business just as easily as her father,” he said. “Hell, maybe better than her old man.”

You laughed with him as he helped you into your coat. You rested your hand on your swollen belly as he helped you outside. You were just at 5 months now, although it sometimes felt like 8, and you would be finding out the sex of the baby today. You were excited, and you couldn’t believe how much time had passed so quickly.

No one had been more surprised than you that Steve just…let you go. You remembered thinking that you would probably have to beg on your knees, hell, maybe even offer to blow him, but it seemed that Bucky really did know Steve best. He had been true to his word, drawing up the divorce papers almost immediately. You received them two days later and signing them was simple enough. You didn’t want anything, and Steve didn’t want anything from you. You sent them back to him as soon as your signature was on the paper, and you felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.

Bucky, eager as always, wanted to marry you right away, but by the time all the planning and arranging had been made, you would be…well 5 months along. Where you are now, and you didn’t want to wear your wedding dress with a baby bump.

“Besides, wouldn’t it be cute to have our baby in the wedding pictures?” you had told him, and he was forced to agree that it was a cute idea.

Your doctor liked the sound of it too, and she was flattered to be invited to the wedding.

“We’ll have to see what my schedule is like, but I’d be honored to attend,” she said, eyes on the monitor.

Bucky’s hand was tight around yours as you both eyed the screen, and you watched as your doctor smiled.

“Everything still looks good since the last time you saw me, but there he is. Your healthy baby boy,” she told you, and your lips parted.

You leaned closer, eyes running over the screen in awe, and you felt Bucky’s lips against the top of your head.

“We’re not calling him junior,” you suddenly whispered, and Bucky chuckled into your hair.

“We’ll call him whatever you want, doll.”

The whole ride home was spent gushing about your son. His crib, his nursery, his clothes, schools, anything you could think of. Bucky hadn’t stopped grinning since you left the doctor, and he fucked you just a little bit more gentle that night.

When you woke up, you felt more well rested than you had in a while. Bucky’s side of the bed was empty, but it wasn’t unusual. Business called, but he regularly checked on you throughout the day whenever he was gone. You had a nice breakfast, thankful that the morning sickness chapter of your pregnancy was gone. Truth be told, you couldn’t wait for the hormones to kick in. Then Bucky would have no choice but to stay home and fuck you all day.

You were in the living room, reading one of your several baby books that Bucky had bought you, when the doorbell rang. You called to your housekeeper, telling him that you would get it before he had the chance to run all the way across the house. You hated making anyone’s job harder. With only some difficulty, you rose from the couch and made your way to the front door.

The figure through the decorative window seemed familiar to you, and your suspicions were confirmed when you looked through the peephole. Confusion filled you, but you unlocked the door anyway, prepared to tell Steve that Bucky wasn’t here. However, the minute you opened the door, he forced himself inside, gliding past you.

You hesitated for a second before closing the door, blinking as you turned around.

“Steve…Bucky’s not here,” you told him.

You were more than surprised to see him. You hadn’t seen him since the day you told him you were pregnant and hadn’t heard anything from him since you’d sent the divorce papers back. He and Bucky still worked together, running this city side by side, and from the way your fiancé talked, it seemed that they were as close as ever. You knew that Steve didn’t care about you, but you were still worried that some weird macho ego thing would get in the way of their friendship. You were relieved that wasn’t the case.

“I know that. I’m here…”

He had spun around to face you, words dying in his throat as he fully looked at you for the first time in months. His pink lips parted, blue eyes lowering to fall to your protruding stomach. Force of habit, you placed your hand on your belly, eyes wide and curious as you waited for him to finish.

“I’m here to see you,” he quietly finished.

Your brows furrowed,

“Oh! Okay then,” you said, stepping further into the living room.

You could feel his eyes on you as you cleaned up your mess, stacking your books and moving to put your empty mug in the sink. He was still in the same spot when you returned, cold eyes on you. It would have bothered you before, but you had long accepted that Steve was just like that with almost everyone.

As you sat down, you noticed some papers in his fist, and you curiously eyed them.

“What’s going on? Is this about Bucky?”

His jaw ticked at the mention of the dark-haired man, and he heaved a sigh.

“These,” he started, holding up the papers in his hand. “…are our divorce papers.”

You stared at him for a moment, a slight frown on your face as you registered what he said. When it finally clicked, you blinked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Our _what_? Steve, why do you still have those?”

He didn’t answer, and you called his name again.

“Why weren’t those sent off? Is something wrong with them? Did I miss a signature?”

You were positive that you hadn’t, but why else did he still have them? God, did this mean you had still been married to him this whole time? Were you _still_ married to him? He didn’t respond right away, and he looked away from you, nostrils flaring.

“I can’t send them off,” he told you, making your heart drop to your stomach. “I won’t.”

You stood on shaky legs, looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

“You’re kidding…right?”

Steve simply stared at you in that impassive way that always made you feel like such a nuisance, and you scoffed.

“Why?” you quietly demanded. “Do you…do you want something from me? From Bucky? Money?”

It seemed insane because Steve was rich, but what else could he possibly want? That was the only logical reason for why he didn’t send those papers off. You huffed when you realized that he wasn’t even looking at you, his bright blue eyes focused on your bump. He took a step towards you, papers still clutched in his hand as he pointed at you.

“That baby should be mine.”

His words made your head spin, and you wondered if you heard him correctly. When your mind fully processed his statement, you felt like you were going to be sick.

“I’m…sorry?”

He took another step towards you, and when his eyes met yours again, you saw more emotion in them than you ever had. They were on fire, gaze intense as he stared you down, jaw clenched.

“That…baby…should…be…mine,” he slowly repeated, and you took a step back.

It took a while for you to respond.

“Are you…okay?”

You stared at him like he was high on something, confusion and dread clouding your thoughts. Was this a prank? Had Steve developed a sense of humor that you didn’t know about?

“You heard me,” he spat, and you nodded.

“Yes. I know. I’m just…trying to make sure I heard you _correctly_ or maybe you didn’t say what you meant to say…?”

“…and why would you think that? Did I stutter? Do I look unsure of my words in any way?” he sneered.

You didn’t appreciate his tone, and you glared at your ex-husband. Well…estranged husband because thanks to him, you two were still married.

“Forgive me if I’m a little confused, _Steve_ ,” you snapped. “…but you don’t even _like_ me, and I’m not talking romantically here. You don’t care for me as a _person_ , and here you are saying that my baby…should be _yours_?”

He placed his hands on his hips, turning his head away as he exhaled.

“Where is this coming from?”

“Why him?” he suddenly asked, glaring at you. “Out of all of the men in this world that you could have fucked, why Bucky? Why him?”

He continued before you could respond.

“You could have fucked literally anyone else, and you chose my best-.”

“For your information, I did fuck literally anyone else I wanted to,” you threw at him, watching as he reared back. “…Bucky just happened to be the only one I fucked during the last 4 months of our marriage…and the one I fell in love with.”

He swallowed, and you sighed.

“Is he the problem? Is it because it’s your best friend and not some stranger you don’t have to see every day?”

You did feel a tad guilty about it, but there had never been any stipulations in your agreement outside of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ and never in the house. You certainly hadn’t expected to fall in love with Bucky, but it couldn’t be helped. How could you not when he was the complete opposite of your husband?

“He’s glowing.”

Your confusion must have been evident, because he continued without any prompting from you.

“Every time I see Bucky, he’s practically glowing. He looks the happiest I have ever seen him, all smiles and excitement and an air of peace that was never there before. It had started long before you dropped the bomb on me, and it was only after did I realize why.”

You frowned at him.

“You make him so happy. He’s almost unrecognizable in his joy…and its because of you…and I hate it,” he lowly admitted.

Your frown deepened as he glared at you.

“That happiness…that peace, it should be mine. That baby should be mine. You were mine first,” he said, and you scoffed.

“I was never yours. You made that perfectly clear not even five minutes into our marriage.”

“I regret that. I won’t lie to you. I’ve regretted that for some time now…”

He slowly started to pace before you, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek.

“I had any woman I could want…and I was so miserable. They all started to sound the same, feel the same…and eventually, they all became faceless to me,” he quietly said.

His words reminded you of his odd behavior before everything seemed to hit the fan.

“…all except one.”

He turned to look at you, and you swallowed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Ironically, the one I never had. The one who, as you so eloquently put it, was never mine.”

You nodded, a humorless chuckle escaping you.

“So you got tired of fucking anything that moved and decided to move onto me… You have some nerve, Steve.”

You shook your head at him.

“I know.”

“…and what if I decided that I didn’t want to move forward with you and only you? What if I had told you that I liked our little arrangement because, as you can see,” you said, gesturing around you. “…I like our little arrangement a lot.”

His nostrils flared.

“We would’ve crossed that bridge when we got there…”

“Looks like we’re at that bridge now.”

You both stared each other down for what felt like forever before he finally said what you’d been waiting for.

“I don’t want you to be with him.

“Well, that’s too damn bad! I’m _with_ him. I’m having his baby, for crying out loud, we’re _engaged_ ,” you yelled, holding up your left hand.

Steve’s eyes simply passed over your ring like it didn’t matter, holding up the divorce papers as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“How will you marry him if you’re already married?”

Maybe the hormones were already kicking in because you felt yourself growing hot, tears springing forth as you glared at him.

“Why are you doing this to me?” you cried. “I’m happy! I’m so happy, and you are ruining this!”

Steve simply looked at you, not an ounce of remorse on his features, and you scoffed.

“You didn’t want me,” you spat.

He looked down, hands still placed on his hips. Your chest was heaving, and you were so angry you thought you’d give birth then and there.

“Do you remember? You barely looked at me on our wedding day, and the few times you acknowledged me during our marriage, I felt like a complete nuisance. A burden! You didn’t want me…but now you don’t want anyone else to have me?”

“I never said I was perfect.”

You briefly closed your eyes, holding back your tears.

“This is my chance to have a happy wedding, a happy marriage. You don’t have to be this selfish, you know? You don’t _have_ to live up to your reputation.”

He didn’t respond, and your frustration and desperation grew.

“Steve!”

He merely shrugged at you, and you sneered at him.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

He sniffed, and you watched as he gripped the papers with both hands, making your eyes widen.

“Discuss it with Buck however you like, but you’re coming home-.”

“No,” you shrieked, rushing towards him as he tore the papers.

Your nails dug into his hands, trying to stop him, but the damage was already done. You slapped him, the sound echoing in the quiet house while your other hand gripped his collar. Without hesitation, Steve’s hand was around your throat, and your eyes widened at his harsh grip.

You hit against him as he forced you back, nose brushing yours as he ran his eyes over you. There was a darkness there that you were unfamiliar with, and you wondered if this was the reason Bucky had insisted on waiting for you that day. You wondered if this was the Steve he knew that you didn’t.

All of your thoughts came to a screeching halt when he pressed his lips against yours. His mouth completely covered yours, and shock coursed through you. You pushed against him, but his free arm simply curled around you, pressed your bump against him as he moved his mouth against yours in a brutal kiss. He groaned against your lips, and you shook in his hold, tears escaping now.

He only broke away from you when you both heard a noise, and you both turned to see Jarvis, your housekeeper, standing in the entranceway to the kitchen. His eyes were wide, and he looked unsure on what to do until his eyes met your fearful ones. Everything after that seemed to happen so fast.

Jarvis ran towards the phone while Steve let you go to reach into the inside pocket of his suit. You pushed yourself against him, fear gripping your frame as you fought to stop him from doing what you suspected. He had no qualms about shoving you away from him, and you barely caught yourself against the couch just as a gunshot rang in your ears.

You clutched your stomach, a scream climbing out of your throat before you snapped your mouth shut. Your stomach churned, and you were positive you were going to be sick. It was quiet save for your soft sobs, and when you hesitantly looked to Steve only to shake as you stared down the barrel of a gun.

“Steve,” you whispered.

He gestured in the direction of the stairs with the gun, blue eyes on you as he tilted his head.

“Up the stairs, sweetheart.”

You clenched your jaw, fear of so many things swirling in your head as you straightened.

“You’re not going to kill me,” you told him.

He wouldn’t, and you both knew it.

“You’re right. I’m not,” he said with a shrug, putting the gun away. “…but you’re still going to walk up those stairs. Baby or no baby, you can’t fight me off.”

He was right, and despite the fresh tears that hit your face, you slowly made your way towards the stairs. His steps were loud behind you, they always had been, and you always hated the sound of him walking throughout the house. You jumped when you felt his hand on the small of your back, and he shushed you.

“Easy,” he said, guiding you through the hallways.

It was clear that Steve was familiar with Bucky’s house, and while that wasn’t a surprise, his intentions, once they became clear, were. Your eyes widened when the master bedroom came into view, and you dug your heels into the floor. It was in vain.

Steve wrapped his arms around you, forcing you into the room despite your nails digging into the doorjamb to stop him. You were full on sobbing as you fought against him, elbowing him and hitting him anywhere you could reach. His hold was firm, and you were a trembling mess when he pushed you down onto the mattress.

“Is this where he fucks you every night?”

“Steve, please,” you begged, pushing against him.

One hand was pressed into your back, and you could hear him undressing himself with the other.

“…is this where he knocked you up? No, why would the two of you ever need a fancy hotel when you had his big house all to yourselves,” he sneered.

It took nothing for him to get you undressed. Dresses were the most comfortable things for you right now, and with a baby dancing on your bladder, underwear just got in the way more often than not. You were hysterical as Steve grazed his hand over your back, fingers dancing over your skin as he drank you in for the first time.

He flipped you, and you stared up at him with pleading eyes. One hand splayed along your chest, fingertips brushing your collarbone as he stepped between your legs, practically ignorant to the way you tried to keep them shut.

“Steve,” you pleaded again.

He ignored you, his free hand finding its way between your legs, playing you like an instrument. You squeezed your eyes shut at the feel, trying in vain to fight off the emotions he brought out of you. Your eyes snapped open when you felt him at your entrance, and you started to plead with him one last time when he pushed himself into you, making you swallow your words.

You had never even seen Steve without a shirt on, let alone naked, so you didn’t know what to expect. He was bigger than Bucky, and your body fought to adjust to him. A choked sob escaped you, and Steve merely groaned as he pressed himself against you. Through your blurry vision, you could see that his eyes were on you, hungrily taking you in as he pulled back.

He stopped when only the tip of him remained before snapping into you. You yelped, hand flying up to grip the one on your chest, nails pressing into his skin. His pace wasn’t brutal, but it wasn’t gentle either. The low moans that escaped his lips made your skin crawl, and you cried harder every time he pressed his hand against your stomach.

You pushed against him as he wiggled his hips, and fed up with all of your resistance, he gripped both of your hands and harshly pinned them beside your head. His lips were on your face now, tasting whatever he could. Your cheeks, your jaw, your mouth. You kept turning your head away, and eventually, he huffed.

“I doubt you’re like this with Bucky…”

You grimaced at the thought of your fiancé, his best friend, and more tears fell.

“Do you sing for him? I bet you squirm for him like a little puppy,” he sneered.

He moved, pressing his knees into the bed on either side of your thighs, hitting something in you that had your breath hitching. A smirk danced along his pink lips, a devious chuckle escaping him. He pressed into that spot over and over, forcing small whimpers to bubble in your throat.

“There she is,” he purred, leaning over to press his lips against your jaw. “I’ve thought about this for months. What you’d feel like…sound like…”

He grinded his hips against yours, and you gasped, heart fluttering as you clenched around him.

“Don’t be afraid to squeeze me, sweetheart. Milk me,” he murmured.

You shook your head, pushing against his wrists, but his hold was firm.

“When the time comes, I’m going to put a baby in you-.”

“No,” you yelped, squirming underneath him.

“I’m going to keep you pregnant…and you’ll never leave…”

You could feel him twitching, hips stuttering, and his breath grew shaky.

“I’m going to keep you full of my cum, and Bucky will never get his hands on you again.”

You fluttered around him as he came inside of you, choppy gasps escaping you as your head spun. You could feel the mess you were making of your sheets, and you wanted to cry again. Steve groaned when he pressed his lips to yours, and you turned your head away.

“I should have fucked a baby into you on our wedding night,” he breathed. “…but I’ll be sure to make up for lost time from here on out.”

You glared at him, and he simply smirked at you, that smirk only growing when the sound of the front door opening reached your ears.


	3. Mistakes of the Heart

Steve pulled out of you, and you winced, heart racing at the predicament you found yourself in. You were a little in shock, having a hard time wrapping your head around what had just happened. Your eyes widened when Steve grabbed his gun after getting dressed, shaking as he told you to do the same.

“…what-what are you going to do?”

He threw you a cold look and getting the hint that he wasn’t going to repeat himself, you put your dress back on. You could feel him between your legs, dripping down your thighs, and disgust filled you. You didn’t have a chance to think about that anymore before Steve fisted his hand in your hair, yanking you up just as Bucky’s panicked voice called your name. You knew then that he’d seen Jarvis’ body.

You stumbled as Steve dragged you along, your nails digging into his skin, but he paid your resistance no mind. The two of you appeared at the top of the stairs just as Bucky took the first step to ascend them, and his eyes widened at the sight of Steve. He was confused, that much was clear, but one look at your face had his jaw clenching.

“Steve…”

Steve pulled you closer.

“…Bucky.”

“Did you kill my housekeeper?”

“I did. I figured he’d get in my way,” your husband told him, and your eyes pleaded with Bucky as they met his.

It was clear he’d noticed the gun in Steve’s hand, and you grew nervous when he took a step towards you.

“Let her go. I’m sure we can talk about whatever your problem is without your hand fisted in her hair,” he sneered.

“Sorry, Buck, but I’m taking _my_ wife home,” Steve told him, tightening his grip.

“She’s not your fucking wife-.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. We’re not divorced, and I want my wife at home with me.”

Steve descended the stairs, pulling you along with him, and you shook your head when you saw Bucky reach for his own gun. He looked conflicted, torn between listening to you and attempting to shoot Steve before he shot him.

“Bucky, please…”

You would rather endure Steve for just a little bit longer if it meant that Bucky wouldn’t get hurt. You would rather he live to see another day to deal with this rather than rashly doing something now that would get him killed. Reluctantly, Bucky took a step back, and you didn’t miss the smirk Steve threw him as he walked past. Steve didn’t leave his back to him as he neared the door, and he waved his gun towards Jarvis.

“You might want to do something about that before he stains the carpet.”

Your struggle was renewed the minute you were outside, only pausing when he forced you into the limo. You slapped him as soon as he shut the door, and he glared at you, jaw ticking as he stared you down.

“I hate you,” you forced through trembling lips. “I hate you so much.”

Only the slight twitch in his cheek indicated that he was bothered by your words, but you didn’t care. You sat back, hand on your stomach as you looked away from him. Your chest was tight the whole ride, tears blurring your vision and wetting your cheeks, but neither one of you said another word to each other.

Steve’s grip was rough as he pulled you out of the car, and you stumbled more than once, wincing. You snatched yourself out of his hold as soon as you were inside, back inside of the place you never thought you’d set foot in again. It looked exactly the same, and that brought you no comfort.

“Get cleaned up.”

You threw him a look, but Steve wasn’t even looking at you. He was taking off his jacket and, getting the sense that he wasn’t going to say anything else, you turned towards the stairs. You could feel his eyes on you as you ascended them, and you clutched your stomach. Under the impression that things would remain as they were, you made your way to your old room.

You were surprised to find it completely changed. It was now a nursery, the colors in a gender-neutral pastel green, and your heart skipped a beat. You frowned, disgust and confusion warring within you as you wondered just how long he’d been planning this. You heard Steve’s footsteps, and you whirled around to face him.

“What the hell is this?”

He grabbed your arm as he passed, pulling you along.

“What does it look like?”

“Have you lost your mind? Do you honestly think I will still be here by the time this baby comes?”

He didn’t answer, opting instead for pulling you into his room. You had never stepped foot in it, never desired to, and you were surprised when he pulled you into a closet on the far side of the room, forcing you to come face to face with a room full of feminine clothes. Part of you wondered if he was really going to put you in the clothes of one of his mistresses or something, but you paused when you noticed that a good number of them were maternity clothes.

You took a shaky breath as he nudged you further into the closet, and you shook your head in disbelief.

“Why are you doing this?” you demanded, looking at him.

He simply turned away, and your frustration grew.

“Get cleaned up and put on something nice, then come downstairs and join me for dinner,” was his only reply.

You heaved an exasperated sigh the minute he was gone. You knew that Bucky wasn’t going to waste any time before coming up with a plan to make Steve let you go, but you didn’t want him to put his life in danger. It was crazy to think that the two were best friends, and yet, Steve didn’t look like he’d hesitate to shoot him. You’d had no idea, never could have guessed that he’d had this much animosity towards yours and Bucky’s relationship.

How could you?

Steve hadn’t just ignored your existence until it was convenient for him during your marriage, but he’d acted as if you were a burden. He didn’t even like you as a human being, let alone romantically. You wondered if you could talk Steve out of this. Surely the man was going through a midlife crisis or something. With that thought, you made your way to the bathroom to wash the feel and stench of Steve off of you. You found a simple maternity dress in the closet, disturbed at how well it fit.

Not wanting to bring on anymore of Steve’s wrath, you were quick to make your way to the dining room. Steve was waiting for you, murmuring something to the cook when you arrived. You were disappointed to see your plate next to him on his left as he sat at the head of the table. You hesitantly sat down next to him, avoiding his eye as you eyed the healthy baby safe food before you.

“I hope you like it,” he said. “I made Gwen research healthy recipes for expecting moms.”

“Why are you doing this?” you sighed out, repeating yourself.

You didn’t want to play along in this horrible game. Steve’s jaw clenched as he looked at you, seemingly upset that you weren’t going to do just that. He sat his utensils down with a sigh.

“I told you…I want you here with me,” he said, reaching for your hand.

You snatched it away, trembling hand falling to your lap as you glared at him.

“Husband and wife and the husband’s several mistresses…how romantic,” you sarcastically threw out.

Steve leaned back in his chair.

“It won’t be like that,” he told you, and you laughed.

“You expect me to believe that you just…gave it all up? Do you remember the things you said to me the last time we saw each other?”

The hardening of his eyes told you that he did, but you continued anyway.

“Let me remind you. You accused me of coming up with some grand scheme to force your hand. The idea that I genuinely didn’t want to be with you anymore was so _outlandish_ to you that the only possible explanation was a trick on my part.”

You chuckled, finding genuine humor in the situation.

“I don’t know if you just think that highly of yourself or maybe you think so lowly of me to think I’d _ever_ beg a man to stay faithful to me, but it was hurtful. You were completely malicious, accusing me of jealousy and telling me to suck it up and make the most of my miserable life-.”

“I know what I said,” Steve snapped. “I don’t need a recap from you.”

“Well, you’re going to get one. You are going to sit here and listen to what I have to say!”

He glared at you, something unrecognizable in his eye, and you returned the gesture.

“You are not a good husband, Steve. You’re not even a good man. I accepted our marriage for what it was. Truth be told, I was very happy with our little arrangement, and if you had come to me to tell me that you wanted a real marriage, that you wanted both of us to only be with each other…I would have laughed in your face.”

Steve’s jaw ticked, and you sneered at him.

“I would have laughed at the sheer audacity. Now somehow, after misleading me into thinking we were divorced, after killing Jarvis, after _raping_ me…you think I’d ever entertain this? I want nothing to do with you, so…” you leaned back in your seat. “Tell me what I have to do in order for you to let me go…”

Steve smirked.

“I’m not letting you go. I know you think this is all one big joke-.”

“Because it has to be! What do you want? A baby? Do you want me to publicly humiliate myself to salvage your own image after the divorce?”

“I want you here with me,” he said, tone leaving no room for arguments. “We’re not getting a divorce.”

You didn’t listen.

“…and my son?”

You watched as Steve’s brows furrowed, a frown taking over at the reveal of your baby’s gender. He slowly exhaled.

“I’ll raise him as my own. That should be my son, anyway,” he added.

You didn’t miss the bitterness in his voice, and you sneered at him.

“He isn’t your son though. He’s Bucky’s,” you told him, taking great satisfaction in the way his face clouded over. “You really expect me to believe that you’ll just…overlook that? Raise him like he’s yours even though he isn’t?”

He didn’t respond, and you continued.

“What will happen when he looks nothing like you? How will you really react when you stare into the face that’s the perfect mix of me and your best friend? As a matter of fact, how in the world are you going to do business with said friend now? You truly didn’t think about any-.”

Your words died in your throat when Steve wrapped his hand around it, chair falling over as he stood to tower over you. You simply stared at him, jaw clenching as he glared down at you, blue eyes stormy with rage.

“You can rile me up as much as you like. You can use every trick in the book to remind me why this isn’t a good idea, but I don’t care. You are mine,” he spat through clenched teeth.

He suddenly let you go, and you sharply inhaled. Tears kissed your eyes as he sat back down, returning to his food like nothing had happened.

“I should have done things differently, I will acknowledge that, but I can only make up for it now. So…”

He reached over to wipe away a stray tear, a smirk dancing along his pink lips.

“We are not getting a divorce. As far as everyone knows, that baby is mine, as is his mother. There won’t be anyone else from here on out, only you.”

You turned your head away from him with a frown.

“You’ll learn to be happy with me as you were with him. Now, finish your dinner before it gets cold…”

Resigned to accept his words until you, or Bucky, could come up with a plan, you did as he said.

  


The hardest part, the true test, came later that night. Even though clothes that were meant for you were located in a closet in his master bedroom, it didn’t occur to you that he expected you to sleep there.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “There are at least 3 other rooms in this house. There’s no reason I have to lie next to you.”

You and Steve had been staring each other down for minutes. You’d almost thrown up once you realized where he intended for you to sleep and sleeping without Bucky at your side was one thing but sleeping next to the man who’d ruined your life was something else entirely. Steve seemed to be out of patience, and you fought against him as he reached for you.

He was firm with you, but somehow still careful, and you gasped when you found yourself on the bed. Holding you down with his body, Steve reached over to turn out the light, drowning the room in darkness. Overwhelmed with everything, you couldn’t stop the tears from collecting in your eyes, a quiet sob escaping.

You fought against him, but eventually, you found your back to his front with his arm tightened around you. Your shoulders shook with quiet sobs, stomach churning when you felt his lips against the back of your neck. You didn’t want to fall asleep, you didn’t trust Steve as far as you could throw him, but your body betrayed you.

Between the events of the day, your physical exertion from fighting with Steve, and your pregnancy, sleep claimed you whether you welcomed it or not. You dreamed of Bucky, apparently saying his name in your sleep, something you only figured out when you woke up to the feel of Steve sliding into you.

You gasped, hand reaching up to grab his wrist, one hand on your neck while the other rested on your stomach. The soft rays of sunlight were gradually brightening the room, and tears collected in your eyes with every thrust. His breath on the back of your neck made you cringe, and you pushed your elbow into his stomach.

“Steve,” you protested, moving to get away from him but he had you in a tight hold, chest pressing into your back.

“Be grateful I’m going easy on you,” he murmured, breathing labored. “You think I like to wake up to my wife calling another man’s name?”

You couldn’t even speak, chest tight, a sob caught in your throat as he brushed his lips over your cheek.

“I want to wake up like this every morning…coming inside of my beautiful wife,” he groaned.

You couldn’t even register the fact that that was the first time he’d ever complimented you. You squirmed against him, core throbbing under the ministrations of his relentless cock. You wanted to get as far away from him as possible, and Steve seemed to only want to get closer.

“…the only thing that would make this better is if I had put that baby in you myself,” he breathed, groaning against your skin as he spilled into you.

He remained still for a moment, the only sound in the room that of your labored breaths. You were shaking, fear and disgust filling you, and he eventually pulled away. You could feel the mess he’d made between your thighs, and you laid there, face wet as he moved to get ready for the day.

You didn’t leave the bed until long after he’d gone, parting with a kiss on your cheek. You felt dirty when you sat up, and it took everything in you to get up and shower. You cried the entire time, and when you exited the room, you were met with a quiet mansion. You knew the staff was around though because fresh breakfast was waiting for you when you entered the dining room.

You ate alone, nibbling at your food as you forced yourself to eat despite your lack of appetite. When you were done, despite your suspicions, you tried the front door anyway. It was locked from the outside somehow. Every other entrance was no different. You couldn’t even get the windows to budge. You had made your way to Steve’s office, a room you had never set foot in, only to find it locked as well. You had kicked the door in frustration, telling yourself not to cry.

It seemed you had no choice but to wait for Steve.

This went on for days. The staff practically ignored your existence as they cooked for you, and you sat around waiting for Steve to return. You two would argue, even resorting to begging him to let you go, but he never budged. It would trickle into dinner, sometimes ending the affair early, and he would proceed to take his anger out on you.

He fucked you until you were on the verge of sleep, paying no mind to your tears and pleas. Sometimes, he woke you up the same way. Only 4 days after he’d taken you, there was a pounding on the front door. You could hear it all the way upstairs where you were avoiding Steve, and you slowly made your way down the hall. You were around the corner, looking down into the entrance as Steve opened the door, only for your eyes to widen as Bucky forced himself inside.

“Where is she?”

You watched as Steve reached out to stop your fiancé, but Bucky shook him off. Neither of them had noticed your presence.

“I’ve offered you shares, all of the money I have, hell, even my business, but you’re being as stubborn as ever. I’m done trying to negotiate. Where is she, Steve?”

The two men glared at one another, and you swallowed, about to make your presence known when Bucky continued.

“I know it kills you that she wasn’t as miserable with your arrangement as you grew to be. I know it kills you even more that I was the man she turned to, that I’m the father of her child, but she chose me…so deal with it,” Bucky said, sounding all kinds of exasperated.

“You have no right to her-.”

“She’s a person, Steve! Not one of your possessions you can hide away from the world,” Bucky sneered.

“She is still my wife. That isn’t going to change, and you are trespassing,” Steve snapped.

“You don’t even love her!”

Your heart clenched as you watched the way Bucky’s face twisted, nostrils flaring as he frowned at your husband. His chest heaved, and he threw up his hands, a scoff escaping him as he shook his head at the blond.

“You don’t even love her,” he quietly repeated. “You don’t know what it’s like to love her, and what’s worse is that…I don’t believe you even want to. You just don’t want her to be with anyone else.”

You gripped the railing, carefully moving downstairs, drawing Bucky’s attention before Steve could say anything. Steve followed Bucky’s gaze and moved before he could. You both called Steve’s name as he blocked you from each other, but you were screaming it with wide eyes only seconds later when Steve pulled out his gun, forcing it into your mouth while he curled his fingers around the back of your neck.

You couldn’t see Bucky from your angle, but you heard the way he paused, heard his breath hitch. Your own heart froze, fear seizing you as Steve tightened his hold. You were too afraid to even swallow, and tears kissed your eyes as you blinked.

“You’re right, Buck. I don’t want anyone else to have her, and if you keep pushing me, I’ll make it so that no one does.”

Steve’s voice was cold, not just icy, but venomous too, and something in you told you that he was serious. That he wasn’t just trying to scare Bucky into leaving, scare you into staying. You truly believed that Steve would kill you just so no one else could have you. There was brief silence, thick with tension, before Bucky eventually spoke.

“This isn’t over, Steve.”

Steve took a step back, taking you with him, and you clutched your stomach.

“This is far from over, and if I find out that you harmed her in any way, this will be more than just a severed friendship. I’ll hunt you down like you’re my worst enemy,” Bucky sneered, sounding like the complete opposite of what you were used to.

“That’s all very touching, but you’re still in my house…and I still have a gun in her mouth.”

You could hear your fiancé’s harsh breaths before eventually, and reluctantly, moving towards the door. Steve only took the gun out when Bucky exited, but you felt no relief. Stomach churning, you couldn’t prevent your food from coming up, and your throat protested as you threw up at your feet. Steve reached for you, and you shoved him away.

You stumbled towards the door, ignoring him as he called your name. You knew he wouldn’t let you walk out, at least not alive, but that didn’t stop you from collapsing at the door, leaning your head against the expensive wood. Your vision was blurry as the tears finally spilled over, chest tight as you fought not to cry harder. You heard him approach you, standing in the entrance to the foyer as he watched your huddled form. You don’t know how long you sat there crying, nor how long he stood there…just watching you, but eventually you spoke.

“You could have any woman you want,” you whispered. “You could have any woman who would be happy to be with you.”

You turned to look at him, eyes puffy and lips trembling.

“…but it’s me you choose to torment. My life you choose to ruin.”

Steve’s jaw ticked, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was offended. His blue eyes flashed with something you couldn’t name, and you glowered at him.

“I know that deep down, you don’t actually care about whether or not I love you. I know that my staying with you is what matters most,” you started.

You pulled your thighs to your stomach, resting your hands on your knees as he stared at you.

“So allow me to make myself clear in terms that you’ll understand, Steve. You can lock me away until I give birth. Hell, you can do so until I get pregnant and give birth again, but it will never make a difference because I will never _want_ you.”

Steve straightened, looking down his nose at you as he fingered the gun in his hand.

“I will never desire you, I will never need you, I will never even dream of you. Every time you kiss me, I will imagine its Bucky. Every time you touch me, I will wish it is his hands instead. Every time I am far too quiet, and you find yourself wondering ‘what she’s thinking about’, know that I am thinking about Bucky. When you watch me in my sleep like I know you do, know that I am dreaming about him. It will always be him.”

The silence was deafening, and for a moment, you wondered if he was going to shoot you and be done with it. However, despite the fact that Steve’s face had clouded over, fearfully so, he simply took a step back before walking away, leaving you alone to lean your head back against the door.

  


It was late in the night when you were roused from sleep by a noise that passed through the many rooms of Steve’s mansion. You were surprised that you’d woken up at all. Steve may not have reacted to your words then and there, but he was sure to let you know how he really felt once night came. You had cried yourself to sleep like you did every night since he’d taken you, and even now, your body still ached rom his harsh grip, cum dried between your thighs.

You thought that you were imagining things, but when you heard it again, you carefully slid out from Steve’s hold. The house was quiet, the soft carpet cushioning your steps. You slid your hand along the wall, the other clutching your stomach as you picked up on another noise. Nervous and afraid, you reached out to turn on the hallway light only to realize that it didn’t work. Pausing, you noted that the house was colder, and you knew then that the power was out.

You wouldn’t dare attempt to go down the stairs, but even if the power were working, something in you told you not to. You discovered why when moments later, multiple gunshots could be heard, quickly followed by the sound of breaking glass. You flinched, stumbling back against the wall as multiple things became clear at once. Several people were breaking into the house, they were armed, and Steve was awake and calling your name.

Taking advantage of the sudden chaos, you slipped into a nearby room, shutting the door just as Steve’s voice filled the hallway. You hurried towards the closet, shutting yourself inside as your mind whirled. Several of Steve’s own men stayed on the property, just not in the main building, and it wasn’t long before you heard different kinds of guns join the fray. You didn’t exactly know what was happening, and you smoothed your hand along your swollen stomach in an effort to calm yourself.

You could still faintly hear Steve calling your name, but it eventually faded away, and you surmised that he went downstairs. You briefly wondered if this was Bucky’s doing, and you frowned, wondering why that hadn’t initially occurred to you. Of course, you knew that he was in the same business as Steve, knew of the ugly side he never allowed you to see, and that was precisely why the idea that Bucky was behind this was a foreign one. A shocking one.

Still, in case it wasn’t, you cursed yourself for not searching for something to protect yourself with. You knew where Steve kept his guns, and you would feel much safer with one right now. That thought only increased when you heard the bedroom door open. You were no longer alone, and the other person in the room was just as quiet as you were. The commotion going on was louder now, and you reached out to grip the wall when you heard the bathroom door open.

You could faintly see light from beneath the closed door, and the way it moved told you that it was a flashlight. You could feel your stomach churning, fear and confusion and anxiety filling you. The stranger in the room had yet to say anything, give any sort of indication as to who they were. Your heart dropped when the closet door swung open, and a blinding light filled your vision. You squinted, unable to see a thing and wondered if you were going to be met with your death or another assault and kidnapping.

You were met with a third option.

“Doll?”

You didn’t have time to feel relief before familiar arms pulled you into a warm chest. A bit dazed and in shock, you absentmindedly pressed your fingers into his back, wide eyes staring ahead. You hadn’t even realized that you were trembling until Bucky started rocking you.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. I’m here now,” he whispered.

“I thought-.”

“I know.”

“Steve-?”

“Outside. That was the last time I saw him,” he answered.

You breathed him in and felt him do the same before he started walking backwards, taking you with him. The room was bathed in darkness once again, and he maneuvered you so that you were behind him as he moved to make his way out. His hand was tight on yours as he weaved through the halls gun first. You gasped when he led you down the stairs, the recognizable shapes of bodies on the floor even in the darkness.

One of his cars, one of the bulletproof ones, was parked further down the driveway. His steps were hurried as he pushed you in front of him, and as you neared the car, you thought to yourself that this seemed too easy. Nothing involving Steve was ever easy, and you were disappointed to be proven right.

You fell to the ground when Bucky was shoved against the car, landing on your back. You winced, and the sound of fists meeting bone reached your ears just as the unmistakable sound of a gun hitting the ground did too. With a struggle, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, watching as Bucky slammed his fist into Steve’s nose, the two of them on the ground before you.

Ignoring the pain in your back, you looked around, eyes zeroing in on the black weapon not far away. You forced yourself to your feet, quickly wrapping your hand around it. Steve was on top of Bucky now, slamming your fiancé’s head into the ground, and you didn’t hesitate. Steve fell against the side of the car, face twisted into pain from the bullet wound in his back.

His blue eyes met yours, and you felt no remorse as he struggled to stand. You could hear Bucky pushing himself to his feet, and you hurried to his side. You wiped the blood from his face, swallowing when he slid the gun from your grip. You pressed yourself against him, shaking your head.

“He’s not worth it-.”

“He won’t stop,” he argued, teeth clenched.

“He’ll have no choice. He’ll never find us if we leave. Killing him will start something neither one of us want to be involved in,” you told him.

You could see the conflict on Bucky’s face, and you knew that he knew you were right. Everything would go to you, and many people would dispute that, claiming that you were unfit to run the business. Even worse, you could only imagine what people would think of you and Bucky publicly getting together after your husband’s death. They would suspect the worse, and they would be right. You’d make enemies out of people you had never even met.

With a sneer, Bucky opened the passenger door before ushering you in. You massaged your stomach as he slid into the driver’s seat, relief only filling you when the mansion started to grow smaller. You leaned back, the stress of the past few days getting to you. Bucky, sensing this, took your hand, rubbing his thumb over your skin. He brought it to his lips, a shaky breath escaping him.

“You don’t know the weight that’s been lifted off of my shoulders,” he whispered.

You could see that he was struggling to keep it together. The stress of seeing you get taken by Steve, powerless to stop him, and powerless again when he threatened your life and that of your son’s. You reached for his face with your free hand as he drove down the street, determined to put as much distance between you and Steve as possible.

“Hey…I’m okay,” you quietly told him, fingers ghosting over his cheek.

“…are you?”

You knew what he was asking, and you knew that if you had told him what really happened to you, he would have killed Steve on the spot. More so, you didn’t want Bucky to have to carry that burden, to blame himself for what Steve did to you. You brushed your thumb over his lips, sending him a small smile.

“I am now.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, Bucky’s soft breaths lulling you to sleep more than the purr of the vehicle. Steve was finally behind you, and although you weren’t as free of him as you would like to be, it seemed insignificant with Bucky and your son at your side.

_fin._


End file.
